


Early Morning Accident

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [41]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and an accidental smack in the face</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Morning Accident

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following amusing prompt posted upon tumblr’s otpprompts: [Person A has woken up in the morning and Person B is sleeping next to them. Person A thinks about how wonderful it is to be next to Person B. Then Person B rolls over in their sleep and their arm smacks Person A in the face.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/125003585821/person-a-has-woken-up-in-the-morning-and-person-b)

The morning was chill and grey beyond the messily drawn curtains crossing the bedroom window; Richard's skin was filled with a patchwork of goose-pimples, as he slowly slid from dream-filled sleep into drowsy wakefulness. He groaned slightly and squinted his eyes as he cast about the room, trying desperately to remember where he was. For one awful moment, recollections were hard to come by and the resultant disorientation was unsettling. Then his gaze fell upon Paul, still sleeping, beside him and all confusion sifted away on gossamer wings, broken and fragile and inconsequential. He smiled suddenly at the recollection that they were back in Berlin for a week, Rammstein having taken a much needed week off from constant touring. Paul had crashed at Richard’s apartment for the night, and their love-making had been desperate, and grasping, and loud. 

He groaned again despite the contentment beginning to filter through his body, mind still partially trapped within the realms of his earlier dreamscapes. He caught a hold of scraps of his dream, half remembered yet slipping away as easily as his disconcerted muddle had; he caught vague handholds on patchworks of death and destruction, of doctors delivering bad news, of old school friends that ran free on Berlin streets forever, never aging. Richard shivered despite himself, and pulled the blankets higher across his body, but the chill of the morning was not what currently was affecting him; his horrid dreams clung to his skin closer than the cool temperatures, and he tried hard to rid himself of those scant fragments he could remember. 

He found himself staring again at Paul's profile, as he tried to blank his mind from disturbing images; Paul was laying on his back, oblivious and unaware of Richard's newly found scrutiny. Richard smiled to himself, as his gaze travelled over Paul’s closed eyelids, and the way that the other man’s eyelashes fanned against his cheek in dark, symmetrical patterns. Paul’s lips were gently parted, and huffing gasps of breath escaped them whilst he slept, coupled with the occasional snore that were louder than should have been possible from such a small man. Richard’s gaze lingered against Paul’s mouth, at the full lower lip that was soft in his memories, and he shuddered, this time with remembered pleasure. He thought of how soft and warm Paul’s lips were against his, of how attentive the other man’s mouth was whilst they made love, sliding over Richard’s cock in warm, wet sweeps.

Richard shifted in bed, cock stirring into semi-hard life at the thought of Paul’s mouth upon it; he stifled a groan and tried to recapture the myriad times that Paul would smile at him, brightness and warmth radiating from the other man’s face, whilst deep wrinkles off-set the kindness of his eyes; each smile, however, hid a deep-seated, almost perverted, wickedness that only came out when they were truly alone. 

Richard watched Paul sleeping for a while, and couldn’t help but marvel over the fact that the other man had remained by his side through thick and thin, firstly as a friend and then latterly as a lover; he’d stayed when most others had left, content to grace Richard’s bed with a warm body and a warmer smile, with soft kisses and gentler caresses that could turn harsh and demanding when lust reached its peak between them. Richard knew then that he was lucky that Paul had decided to stay, had reciprocated his advances, had surprised him even with his almost utter capitulation; love was shared, coupled with a deep-seated trust that Richard had never quite known before, or even knew existed before Paul. 

Paul stirred suddenly, a brief sigh escaping his lips as he turned onto his side to face Richard, eyes still closed as his arm rose in sleepy maneuverings, before his elbow suddenly caught Richard squarely in the nose.

“Oh fucking mother-fucker, fuck it, Paul,” Richard yelled, as sudden bright pain blossomed through his face and ratcheted down through his body. 

Paul mumbled in sudden sleepy confusion, as his eyes cracked open, already misty-blue eyes mistier still with the vestiges of sleep.

“What's the matter with you?” Paul asked, through a hefty, wide-mouthed yawn.

“You elbowed me in the fucking face, is what’s the matter,” Richard cursed, as he investigated his nose with exploratory fingers. “I think you broke my nose, you animal.” 

“Did not,” Paul said, with surprising clarity given the still tired state of his face. “I did no such thing.”

“You were asleep, Paul. How can you be so certain?” Richard challenged, even as he felt the first brush of Paul’s fingers against the back of his wrist.

“Let me have a look, you fucking drama queen,” Paul huffed, but there was a long-suffering fondness behind his early-morning disgruntlement.

Richard’s complaints fell on deaf ears then, as Paul’s fingers brushed over the bridge of Richard’s nose; Paul, in time, huffed and laid back against his pillow, eyes soon closing again with the heaviness of morning weariness.

“It’s not broken, nor is it even vaguely swollen. There’s not even any blood, Reesh; I dunno why you’re complaining,” he grumbled. “Waking me the fuck up at whatever time you call this shitty-arse hour.” 

“It’s seven o’clock,” Richard grumbled, even as he returned to prodding his nose with his fingers. “Are you sure it’s not broken?” 

“Would you be able to prod it so much if it was, Reesh?” Paul asked, with an irritated groan. “Go and get some ice from the freezer or something.”

“No,” Richard said, petulantly. “I’m not a pussy.”

“Well, you are, sometimes,” Paul grumbled, but his tender smile took away the harshness of his words. 

“Can’t you kiss it better, Paul?” Richard asked hopefully.

“What? Your nose or your ego?” Paul asked, as a smile began to curve the corners of his lips. 

“Oh, is that what you’re calling my cock this morning? My ego? I see,” Richard said, with a sudden grin at Paul’s surprised laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t mind a kiss there, if you’re offering.” 

“I wasn’t,” Paul said, and another laugh escaped the trap of his lips at Richard’s outraged complaint. “And don’t get petulant, Reesh. I’ve just woken up.”

“And I’ve just had your elbow in my face,” Richard reminded him. 

He watched as Paul’s narrow chest rose and fell in a long-suffering sigh, before the other man’s eyes fluttered open again, to stare groggily up at the ceiling.

“You're not gonna let me go back to sleep again, are you?” Paul asked, but it didn't sound to Richard as though he particularly minded. 

“Nah,” Richard said, even as he slid one exploratory hand against the softness of Paul’s abdomen.

Paul’s next exhalation was a little shaky, and Richard was encouraged by the fact that Paul neither complained at the contact nor attempted to shake him away. Richard slid his hand further down, between the other man’s legs and felt the first stirrings of Paul’s erection. 

“Are you sure you want to go back to sleep, Paul?” Richard asked as he began to slowly stroke Paul’s cock.

“With you stroking my ego? Not a chance,” Paul said, as he turned a proper grin onto Richard.

Richard laughed at that and continued to stroke Paul, enjoying the way that the other man’s body responded easily, despite the earlier complaints, that had been mostly perfunctory at best; Paul always was grumpy in the mornings, almost as grumpy as Richard knew that he could be. Then he stopped thinking completely, when Paul’s mouth crowded in against his own, kisses soft and warm, tongue exploratory as Paul’s hand rose and cupped the back of Richard's neck in a heated, slightly sweaty line. Richard allowed Paul to maneuvre him onto his back, the slightly smaller man’s body familiarly heavy against his own; Paul settled comfortably between the framework of Richard’s legs, mouth still peppering heated kisses against Richard's mouth as he did so. 

Richard made a noise of sharp complaint when Paul rolled away; Paul’s sudden growl of vague irritation put paid to further complaint when the other man returned, having located the lube from wherever they’d carelessly tossed it the night before. Paul’s body was a warm weight against his legs, as he knelt between them, body bracketed once again by Richard's thighs. Richard watched with undisguised interest, as Paul spread lube over his fingers, before he angled his hand between Richard's legs. Richard's eyes closed involuntarily at first intrusion, breath a hissing sharp noise at the first bright blossom of pain which soon faded out into pleasure. He kept his eyes closed as Paul prepared him, and when he opened them again, he saw that Paul was fully hard now, an eager, dark expression caught in the other man’s eyes as Paul stared down at him. Lust roared its way through Richard’s veins then, and he was fully hard himself by the time that Paul finally eased his hand away, to roll on a condom with practiced ease and to lay atop Richard. 

Richard ran his hands over the other man’s back, descending down, down, down as Paul guided himself inside Richard with a moan of pleasure, muffled against Richard's shoulder. Richard’s resultant cry was louder, harsher, slightly sharp and broken off when Paul began to thrust into him, hips rolling against hips, gently at first and then harder, harsher, more erratic. 

Richard continued exploring Paul’s body with his hands as they continued making love, noises of pleasured encouragement spurring the other man to thrust deeper, harder into Richard's body; when Richard came it was with a pleasured shout of Paul’s name, harsh and needy and choked off at the end. Paul’s climax was quieter, yet no less needy and desperate, muffled against the curve of Richard's neck, harsh blasts of heated breath huffing against Richard’s throat as Paul erratically rode out the last of his climax. 

Paul eased away from Richard after first laying a soft kiss against the other man‘s lips; Richard watched as he rolled off the condom and dropped it into the bin beside the bed. Richard sighed beneath the familiar weight of Paul’s hand against his hip, fingers describing gentle caresses against Richard's sweaty skin. 

“That was fantastic,” Richard breathed, a grin still resting on his face. “Almost makes up for the broken nose.”

“There’s that bloody broken nose, again,” Paul grunted, despite the sated, blissful smile upon his face. “You’re never gonna let me live that one down, are you?” 

“Nah,” Richard said, with a laugh. “But if you make love to me like that again pretty soon, then I just might.” 

“Sounds like something I can easily get behind,” Paul muttered, with a smile, even as his eyes fluttered closed. “Just give me a bit of rest first, my love.” 

“Hmmm,” Richard agreed, even as he settled against Paul’s body comfortably to wait.


End file.
